Recovery
by DullHaven
Summary: The head injury was nothing compared to spending an entire week in the care of Richard Castle.


There were very few things in life that Kate Beckett truly hated. Plenty of things that she had mixed feelings towards, but hate? Limited. And at the top of that very short list, hospitals were the reigning champions. Now, it wasn't that she didn't see the benefit in them, they were obviously very important for public safety. However, being admitted to a hospital was liable to cause more headaches than it was worth. Especially with Richard Castle along for the ride.

"Have you checked for nerve damage?"

"Castle."

"What about compartment syndrome?"

"Castle."

"Just a minute, Beckett. You're positive that it's set right?"

"Castle, if you don't stop harassing the doctor, you're going to be the one worrying about compartment syndrome."

Castle ducked his head to avoid the smack that Kate directed towards him, and immediately reached out to steady her on the doctor's table. He cautiously avoided meeting her eyes, concerned that her face would be contorted into that nettled scowl that it so often twisted into around him. Already on thin ice for finagling his way into the exam room, the man was treading carefully around his quick tempered partner.

On Kate's part, the energy simply wasn't available to be put into rebuking Castle. Her ankle was throbbing, her head was pounding, and she wanted to get back to her case. To make matters worse, she didn't know how she was going to face Ryan and Esposito after being carried from the crime scene.

Whoever had done the initial canvas and cleared the scene had apparently been in need of corrective lenses, because he failed to spot the man in the closet, who suspiciously bolted when the detectives had been studying the body. Beckett had followed soon after, only to be grabbed by the suspect and practically _tossed_ down the third floor staircase. Ryan continued after the suspect, eventually catching up to the speeding man at the crosswalk three blocks away. Both Castle and Esposito stayed behind to check on their lead detective, who had lost consciousness, but regained it before either of the men reached her. It was Esposito that noticed her apparent confusion and ankle that was twisted in the wrong direction, before carefully maneuvering her into his arms and, with Castle's help, putting her into the awaiting car.

Later, the hospital staff, who had expected to see the detective in much worse shape, had marveled over her lack of injury. She was lucky. Very lucky. The doctor had discovered a broken ankle and a slight concussion, but nothing that would cause her to be held overnight. Which was convenient, considering it was going to take some sort of higher power to keep her in that hospital. Now, if only the doctor had managed to escape before Castle began his interrogation.

"Detective Beckett will be all right, Mr. Castle. Complications with such minor injuries are rare, but I would like to see her back here in a week or two. Just to make sure."

He paused to observe his patient and her..._whatever he was_, who were both staring challengingly in the general direction of the other. It was obvious that making the next appointment was going to be a battle. In an attempt to keep it out of his office, he went on, rushing his sentences.

"In the meantime, I would recommend that you find someone to stay with. I don't generally like to see my concussion patients being sent home alone, and those crutches add another challenge."

The woman flushed, either from anger or embarrassment, and pulled herself off of the table, balancing on her good ankle. The head injury had clearly done nothing to soften her heavy gaze which now fell on the nearly squirming doctor.

"That won't be necessary," she informed him, waving off Castle's attempts to draw her attention to him. "I'll be just fine on my own."

"Detective, I really don't think-"

"She'll come to my place."

Castle braced himself for the daggers and wasn't disappointed when his partner's glare slid to him. A sheepish grin pulled across his face, and Beckett attempted to adjust her own face into a more composed and less infuriated expression.

"I couldn't-"

"Of course you can," he said brightly, "In fact, your captain insists."

He pushed his phone into her hand, text message open on the screen. It was true. The text was from Montgomery, and it seemed like orders _could _be just as severe in message form. She sighed.

"Alright, Castle. Looks like we're roommates for a while."

After receiving some final instructions from the tentatively relieved doctor, Castle looped an arm around her shoulders only to be shoved off and left behind. The doctor smiled uncertainly, and gave the other man a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he shrugged past him.

"Good luck."

When he caught up with Beckett, who was exceptionally quick for someone who could only use one leg, she was already harassing Esposito for details on both the suspect and the crime scene. The other detective, who had been pacing the waiting area since the two had disappeared into the exam room, was stammering to avoid making her even _angrier_, which may not have even been possible. He seemed to be failing, as Beckett was turning an unnatural shade of red and becoming more agitated by the second.

"Where are we on this case?"

"_We_ aren't anywhere. Captain wants you home and resting."

Her eyebrows shot up, not expecting to hear that. While she was still dumbfounded, Esposito gave her a slight hug and made his escape.

"Did he just..."

"Yep," Castle answered, reaching out to lay a hand on her back, "Come on. You can plan your lecture back at my place."

* * *

><p>It was no secret that Castle should be voted the most irritating man in New York, but it appeared that he was also in the running for the most overprotective care taker in the state. The two <em>were<em> fairly interchangeable.

The guest room had practically been baby proofed, the beige carpet clear of any obstructions that may be considered a tripping hazard. Furniture was in the process of being pushed against the walls, or removed from the room entirely.

"Castle. It's fine. I couldn't stumble in here if both my ankles were broken and it was pitch black."

Beckett started towards the bed, determined not to look as if she were having any trouble adjusting to the crutches, and sat down on the edge. Her eyes raised to meet his, softening when she realized how genuinely concerned he seemed.

"Go to bed, Castle," she ordered softly, "Your going to need all the rest you can get for the next few days."


End file.
